Mission of the Inqusitor
by BIBOTOT
Summary: Inquisitor Amelda Eisenhorn is on a mission to destroy a Necron Tomb World, but the true prize is much greater. Haunted by his dark past and facing rivalry from within the Inquisition itself, Eisenhorn must pull himself together if there is to be another victory for the Imperium.


_52 years ago_

_The town had descended to chaos. As though under some foul spell, its once peaceful people turned violence and fell upon one another with the voracity of a predator. There was no law, no mercy, and no stop._

_Friends fought friends._

_Neighbors killed neighbors._

_All the while, terrifying creatures stalked in the dark, slaying and devouring their victims._

_But on top of all that, a single man wielding a minigun ran rife on the street, opening fire indiscriminately at anyone in his path. It only needed a glance to figure out sanity had all but abandoned his body. Slowly but purposefully, he cut through the streets, mopping up other combatants as well as people who were just trying to flee, laughing maniacally all the while. Where there was blood, he felt joy. Where bodies disintegrated, happiness. And where screams of death and agony was heard, exuberance._

_A creature leapt at him, massive jaw gapping, and two pairs of insect-like talons aiming to tear him apart. The thing was identified as a purestrain genestealer by the Inquisition, but at that point no one knew what it was, where it came from, or what it wanted to achieve. Nevertheless, the man had expected its attack. Swinging around, he evaded the maelstrom of teeth and then the storm of razor-sharp claws. The creature was caught off balance. The man pressed the muzzle of the minigun at its jaw, squeezed the triggered, and shot its distorted head right off._

_"Yeah! Take that fucker!"_

_The man continued his rampage unabated, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He cared not who was tainted, who was alien and who was not. They all died the same. They all deserved to die all the same. Overnight, everything he loved and valued was taken away from him. There was nothing to lose. If others weren't guilty, they would at least share his lament._

_At length, he came across a woman and her child cuddling each other on the side of the street. She was middle-aged, the daughter barely ten. They were dirty, tattered, terrified and crying. He approached them with gun at belt height and they saw him coming._

_"Please," the woman clasped her hand and begged, how pathetic her voice sounded. "We have done nothing wrong to you. Spare my child. She doesn't deserve this."_

_"LIE!" he spat. "This place is infested with monstrosities. They appear humans, but I know they are daemons inside. Nobody is getting out alive! Nobody! I won't stop until they are all dead."_

_"I will do anything for you," the woman wailed. "Just…just don't hurt my daughter. I beg of you. Anything you want."_

_"My dead parents," the man replied, lowering his voice contemptuously. "Can you bring them back?"_

_The woman fell silent._

_"That's what I thought," the man said._

_He burst into laughter once more as two fountains of blood appeared before him._

* * *

"Inquisitor, we are arriving in the planet's orbit," said Varienz.

I groggily opened my eyes, taking in the surrounding. Varienz was standing next to me lying on the couch, both his hands behind his back. The flight had been a long one, and my compartment was not the first class type. Due to urgency we had to requisition a civilian space craft. I was also tired from my previous campaign on Calarius V where an encounter with the Orks turned out an extremely unpleasant experience. I killed the Warboss in single combat and broke the back of the Waaagh! one day after my arrival, but the war waged on as order was declared to expunge the last of the xenos taint from the planet. Fighting a prolonged conflict did not suit me well and the fast the Greenskins were risking everything to protect their settlements and sanctuary which had lasted for at least three thousand years made it worse. I fell to the swamp twice, got insects in my clothes fourteen times and was injured on countless occasions during the mopping up in the jungle. In addition, there was a dismal lack of pretty girls and good alcohol. I was dying to get out of there.

"Prepare the lander," I told him while suppressing a yawn; not good being seen like that. "Destination Rinza 342N-123W."

"Yes, my lord," he replied and silently walked out from the room. My subordinate Varienz was the type of men that only happened once per planet: competent, loyal, brave and never afraid to carry out small duties. It was a good thing I found and recruited him in that bloody slump on Farak III rather than letting his potential go to waste in street brawling and drug smuggling (both of which are legal on the planet, apparently, but not whoring).

The lander was ready shortly and we made our departure without delay. The trip to the planet's surface took fifteen minutes. Emperor protected me; that was fifteen minutes of sitting next to Ellie while she constantly poked me either with her finger on places where other Inquisitors would have turned her into a servitor for lack of respect or with questions so banal I swore any further than fifteen minutes I would just jump off the lander myself. Ellie made it into my retinue after spending most of her eleven-year life braving the streets of Farak III and stealing whatever she thought was edible. What ended up in her stomach I did not bother asking. As it turned out, she really has a knack for this kind of job. Her skills had served me numerous times, including stealing the key to the "naughty locker" of an Ecclesiarches High Priest.

"What is your favorite color?" she asked cheerily. Her reddish cheeks radiated an air of youthfulness. They were uncomfortable for me to look at as they reminded me of a period in a human's life I, as an artificial clone, had never gone through.

"Green," I said wearily.

"You like Orks, do you?"

"But not too green."

"Your favorite pet?"  
"I don't have one."

"Your favorite opponent?"

"The Tau."

"Why?"

"They run away when losing."

"So?"

"Makes the job easier when the enemy admits defeat."

"Prepare for landing," said Walrus from the pilot compartment. I had never thought my deliverance would come in the form of someone like him. A drunkard from Ishbay, his driving skills were legendary. As soon as I saw that epic, outrageous maneuver he pulled out which caught two Chaos Hell Blades crashing into one another in midair, I knew he deserved a spot in my retinue. "We shall be arriving shortly."

The Aquila lander's engine thrummed as it entered the orbit of the planet Rinza. The ship rocked, causing poor little Ellie to throw up on the floor. I saw jelly beans and biscuits in the pile of mesh. Not surprising, for Ellie had a bad habit of not chewing carefully when eating. A servitor, unperturbed by the turbulence, materialized and cleaned up the mess she made.

We soon took down at the airport. The boarding ramp opened and we stepped out, me leading as always. I was happy just to be in open air right now. Three people were waiting for us.

"Horn, my man," said Inquisitor Regalia, a squat, chubby man with a large mustache. I had no idea why he pronounced my name that was. I am Amelda Eisenhorn of the Ordo Hereticus, previously known as Amelda Attula, but that was in another lifetime. I supposed he came up with that seeing me during a victory parade wearing that Warboss headgear which I took as trophy the first time we met on Selonia V. It was a brief encounter, but enough to leave an impression on both of us. First impression sure died last. "Glad to see you at last."

"I am pleased to see you too, Regal," I replied. "By the Holy Throne, there will be a lot of work to do. Good to see I can finally shove some of it off my shoulder for now." To my surprise, his clothes looked exactly the same as mine, though his expensive first-class Imperial material could never come close to be compared to my Wraithbone. I had three sets of formal costumes, all of which designed by the finest artisans of Craftworld Sala'rin after I helped them repelling a daemonic incursion. They were light to wear, comfortable, easy to wash and most of all, self-regenerating, meaning unless I took a full Destroyer hit, the clothes would stay and come back no matter what. And there was also the string where miniature trophies were hung, ranging from tiny bits of Tau Battlesuits to teeth of a Hive Tyrant; this only a decade of being at the frontline spilling blood and guts of aliens and heretics could earn.

"Nice to have you here, Inquisitor," said his female assistance, a beautiful woman with blond hair tied neatly to a bun. Her eyes were startling green and her skin was smooth. She was dressed in white military uniform with red collars and wrists, which contrasted vividly with the man in black next to her, of course myself whose color he was copying. "Your presence honors us."

"You've made it, boss," said my female assistance, Rozmea. "I almost thought those Orks were too hard for you to deal." A former Sister of Battle, Rozmea was expelled from her organization after being found out having inappropriate sexual relationship with the planetary governor. For three days she was hung upside down from top of the Cathedral, starved, whipped and insulted. The badly brutalized sister crawled to my ship just as I was about to depart, and I took her in, not willing to see this atrocity continue. It was a decision I was glad I made. Rozmea had a unique way of convincing men even in unusual situations which came to aid quite often. For this case, her chastity belt had yet to be tempered. Seeing that filled me with relief, partly because it signified Regalia as an easy type to persuade and partly because her XXX was made of adamantium, something I had had the ultimate displeasure of discovering.

"The Orks were easier to crack than the planet's environment," I laughed, not that I felt funny or tickled, but it was always better to sound more optimistic for diplomatic purpose. "The Necron, I assure you, will be anything but."

The mission I was on was a self-appointed one, to infiltrate and destroy a recently discovered Necron Tomb whose restart system had been corrupted and thus remained dormant. Success would mean hundred millions, if not billions, of these mechanical monstrosities erased forever from the galaxy and a massive triumphant of the Imperium to boast. Normally, this work would have been carried out by the Ordo Xenos and their Chamber Militant, the Death Watch, there was something particular about this one that no one else except myself could comprehend. As a result, I had decided to launch an incursion into the Tomb, destroy it from within and escape before the hammer blow. For that, I had assembled a team of people who I found most trustworthiness.

Varienz: reliable and a subordinate I could ever hope for.

Ellie: a smart rat who could sneak through entire horde of Tyranids without them noticing.

Walrus: had more Dutch courage than any human I had seen in my life.

Rozmea: witty and charming, found me a strong ally.

And myself. You will see soon enough what I am capable of.

"Oh, this is going to be good," said Rozmea. "The last couple of heretics you gave me provided hardly a challenge."

I stepped out from the lander to greet my comrades. I should have suspected something was awfully wrong, like the fact that the airfield was empty apart from us or the silhouette of someone on control tower that was supposedly under maintenance. In retrospective, as an Inquisitor, I should have been wary of betrayal in every move, for the enemies of mine were not necessary the enemies of men in general. At that point, however, I was too exhausted from the flight as well as being excited at seeing Regalia to think about them straight. My awareness of the situation would have made significant difference back then, but that was not the case.

I paid for my mistake.

I didn't make it two feet outside when a rocket hit my shuttle, exploding it violently right on my back. I had not time to scream when as the blazing fireball engulfed and consumed me.

The first thing that came to me when I regained my consciousness was two pairs of hands, one male and one female, Rozmea I could feel it, dragging me from the debris of the lander.

"Call the medics!" I heard Regalia shouting frantically. "Tell them this is an emergency. And find that Throne damned assassin. I want him dead! Hurry, hurry!"

"Inquisitor, are you OK?" Rozmea cried seeing my eyes open. "Are you OK? Speak to me, please."

"I will live," I told her. Shrugging off the hands that held me, I stood up on my two feet, much to the surprise of my counterpart and his assistant. "Don't worry about me."

Regalia was innocent in this, at least I hoped so, but somebody had clearly just attempted to murder me, not that I was too surprised by that; being an Inquisitor meant you always had more foes than friends. My skull had been fractured by the blast and several fragments impaled my brain, testament of how powerful a missile they were using. Other injuries included a crushed ribcage, fifty-two broken bones and forty-nine percent skin suffering third degree burn.

Not enough.

Not even close.

A normal man would have died more than once from such hideous wound done to his body, but I was no ordinary man, that much I had no reason to hide. I was created as a clone to house the spirit of an ancient fallen hero who had an obsession with beauty and perfection, something he passed over to me. The artificial body I possessed, crafted by means of arcane technologies and hidden alchemy unknown to the rest of the universe, proved both resilient and regenerative against all types of physical harms. It was only recent that I found out it was also immune to all poisons and psychic mind assaults. Unless I am killed outright, it is almost certain I will come back, unharmed and hungry for revenge. I was created to be the most perfected being this galaxy had ever known.

That was not true.

I was a failure. If what happened to my family was not proof enough, what took place here nailed it.

The siren was booming. Rescue teams and staff from the airport were rushing in. They were too late, as always.

Of my crew, there was not much to say, for none could have survived to blast. No matter how competent they were, no matter how smart they were, no matter how brave they were, they had all perished. My heart throbbed with blood as I saw Ellie's face from the wreckage. It was blackened and severely scorched, a piece of metal penetrated her left eye where the blood had all been evaporated by the superheat of the blast. I looked away quickly. I prayed her death had been quick and painless, the concussive force killing her before she could feel the flame.

The image of a girl with reddish cheeks who made me nausea about a childhood I wished could experience for the full development of my mentality flashed through my mind for the last time.

It had taken me much time and effort to assemble this team. Whoever did this would pay.

Dearly.

* * *

"I am sorry for your loss," said Regalia sympathetically. "I don't know how much they mean for you." He offered me a glass of drink but I refused. Too depressed to have anything.

The explosion caused us to be apprehended by the local arbiter, though it only took Regalia a couple of minutes to use (or abuse) his authority and force them to release us. The accommodation he booked for me was a five-star hotel. After all those days spent in wet tent and cramped compartment with no air-conditioner, this was a massive improvement. Walrus had always wanted to live in luxury, to have his messy room cleaned up by someone else and food brought into his bed in the morning. I promised him at the onset of our comradeship what would one day be made possible thanks to the wealth and reputation we accumulated. Now, I would have to live with the knowledge I could no longer fulfill that.

"Have you done what I asked?" I said to Regalia, trying to keep my emotion suppressed, even though my heart was bleeding like a pig.

My stupid mistake.

My fucking stupid mistake.

Three comrades dead because of me.

"I have," he said. "The ship has been ordered. Commercial type Moon. Medium-sized. The pilots are smugglers who have had knack of evading Imperial patrol in the area. They already know the path to the Tomb World and agree to help us, not for free, of course. They will have the talent to keep this mission a secret, or in worst case scenario, we apply pressure in the form of a few hellgun rounds to the head. Departure is seven days from now."

"Are you sure they are reliable?" I asked.

"They have been trading for more than four centuries like that without any Imperial authority questioning," Regalia assured me. "A lot of the cargos are mutants on their way to heavens. I think you will be fine."

"No good enough," I told him, smacking the table with my fist. "If you can find out about them, what makes you think the Ordo Xenos won't where they have the same resources? They know I am here, that is pretty much certain after today. What keeps them from following my track from now on?"

Blood seemed to be drain from Regalia's face. After a moment of dumbfound, he finally spoke, "The Ordo Xenos? They… they were the one behind your assassination? But how? And why? The missile we identified is a local model."

I sighed darkly. Regalia had been in the field for only three years, broad-bellied but narrow-minded. He had still had much to learn. And he had better learn fast, for this galaxy was an unforgiving place for the ignorance. I was not particularly experienced myself, with only four decades of service in tow, but what I had seen could condemn a man's life a million times over.

I saw swarms of Tyranids, hordes of Orks and legions of Chaos overrunning landscapes like a malevolent flood.

I saw the sadistic debauchery of the Dark Eldar, the genocidal relentlessness of the Necron, the treachery that was about to be unfold in the Tau Empire.

I worshipped the Emperor for resolve, but the true ideology I heeded was that of Craddol. All Forces of Order must unite to protect and preserve the Old Ones' legacy. The foul whispers of Chaos and the seduction of the Tau were trivial and meaningless.

But the enemy from within was a new discovery. It came in the form no one suspected and stuck where my guard was down. Across the cast Imperium of Man, I was known by many names, but there was only one word the Alien Hunters would ever address me.

Traitor.

Two words.

Filthy traitor.

When introduced to the Inquisition without any previous training, it was the Ordo Xenos that I joined, taking up the legacy of my late master D'claire. I was still part of the Ordo Xenos in my first ever mission, my first ever victory. But the Ordo was keeping me down just as it was pulling down itself. Its resistant to change in cohesion with the rest of the Imperium was soon to become intolerable. Radicalism ran rife. Xenos artifacts were hoarded illegally serving no purpose. Deathwatch units sacrificed entire planets, or even entire Chapters of Space Marines for reasons so ridiculous I would be laughing if the consequences were not so dire. The Ordo Xenos would go downhill soon, what Malcador the Stiligite ever stood for all but gone. When a letter of invitation came from the Ordo Hereticus came, I saw a chance to take up a new leaf.

Up until recently, I was under impression my former colleagues would leave me alone as long as I fought against the enemies of the Imperium. I was wrong. The tracked me down, followed my every move and even eliminated many of my contacts so that I would be left clueless. It was only a natural development that they eventually made an attempt at my life. I doubt it was because I abandoned them that they were trying to get back on me. There was something more in this, something much more sinister, yet it could change the Imperium forever.

Another inside purge? Eradication of the Ordo Xenos altogether? Alliance with the Dark Eldar? Valeria finally having the long-waited beach party where she showed off her Eldar-made bikinis?

I did not know anything about this, unfortunately.

"I will…trust in you this time, my friend," I said tiredly. Regalia was still in shock. "I will also need a new band for this mission. Rozmea alone will not be enough."

"I will guarantee a new retinue ready by that time," Regalia said. I did not trust him much in this, but after seeing the people I knew and cared died before my very eyes, it was better to go into harm's way with the ones I did not bother whether they live or die.

"I will go back to my room for some rest," I said. "The Emperor protects."

"And He shall," Regalia replied firmly.

* * *

I could not sleep. My mind was spinning and my memory would not stop haunting me. I was thirsty now, and I regretted not taking that drink Regalia offered me earlier. A bottle of Rinza's finest Scorch would do nicely, so I had one of Regalia's men going out to buy for me.

One hour later, he did not come back.

Two hours later, still nowhere to be seen.

Two hours and seventeen minutes, aaaaarrgghh!

It had never taken Varienz more than thirty minutes to perform any errant I gave him, from delivering a written letter to the governor on the other side of the hive to killing an Ork Runtherd and his Gretchin slaves. For the first time in many years, I got to know what the meaning of incompetence was. I tried to call the receptionist, but the phone was not working. Too tired to walk down, I lied on the bed and chewed up the pillow like a furious canine.

Tears streaked from my eyes. I never thought crying was a weakness nor a sign of defeatism. Despite years of meditation and training, my mind remained dangerously volatile, a defect that had been plaguing me ever since I was created. The original was too obsessed with his unattainable dreams that he ignored what consequences there might be when he implanted me with capability to feel and express greater than even the Eldar before the Fall. In the face of such harrowing event that had just taken place, I slowly reverted to the deranged person who went rampage on the innocent and guilty alike fifty two years ago. At least this time I did not feel the need to kill anyone, so that was an improvement.

But still, I needed something where all of my anger could be thrown upon.

There was an Ork in the bathroom, so I guessed I would pick him.

Howling and bellowing, I rushed at him. The alien never responded as I pinned him down, beat him with my bare hands while biting him all the strength my jaw could muster. Green bits flew all over the place. I laughed maniacally.

*Knock! Knock!*

The noise at the door kicked some sense into me and I found myself snapped back to reality. Quickly letting go of the green towel which I had been brutalizing for the past couple of minutes (at least the hotel would share my displeasure now), I cried, "Come in. It took you long enough to get me a bottle. Thank you, but next time I will do it myself."

The door opened and the person walking in was not the guy I sent out to buy me wine. It was Regalia's female assistance I saw earlier. She was still dressed in that white uniform but her hair was down, making her even more attractive.

"I am sorry?" she apologized. "Did I come at a bad time? What happened here?" She frowned, indicated the messily torn towel.

"I was looking for bombs," I told her. "After what happened this morning, there is no such thing as being too careful. I thought I heard some beeping in that."

The woman giggled amiable, "I guess I don't think like an Inquisitor after all. Oh, pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Perlia Afronx, chief assistant of Inquisitor Regalia. He sent me here to take care of you."

Take care of me? Now I knew what Regalia was intent on: a dick move to gain my favor and an advantage in climbing up the hierarchy ladder of the Inquisition. A very dick move indeed. It would have been better if he had given me a guy who did not take more than two hours to fetch a Throne damn bottle of liquor. That did not say I lost my interest in him. Others would have done exactly the same.

"Shall we begin?" she asked, unbuttoning her jacket and taking off her boots and socks. She showed no embarrassment or hesitation doing it right in front of me.

"You are not seducing me, aren't you?" I tried to stay calm, but my heart was ringing madly. I felt sweat running down on my reddened cheek. My eyes were fixated on her beautiful figure. She was an angel, a saint and I her pilgrim. Her wheat blond hair, smooth skin, large green eyes, slender body, double C-cup, perfectly shaped and unpainted fingers and toes. Everything about her was as perfect as this sinful cruel galaxy could offer. "Rule 45:75P by the Holy Ordo, sexual relationship between an Inquisitor and his/her subordinate is permitted only with allowance from the Adeptus Terra. Failure to meet this is punishable by…"

Perlia shut me up by pressing her lips on mine. The kiss was a delicious one. Our tongues embraced passionately. I tasted her drool in my dry mouth, not enough to quench the burning thirst, but satisfying nevertheless. She relieved me of my belt and I removed her bra, all the while our hands gently touching and caressing each other's body. The sensation in all of this was…quite irresistible.

Perhaps I was too skeptic about Regalia. Maybe this was his way to cheer me up, to, at least for a brief moment, take away the pain that dwelled within me. Either way, he was successful.

I forgot how Varienz would perform the duties I gave him without fail. I was not there to see Walrus as he baited the enemy aircraft into each other, causing them to explode spectacularly. I never knew Ellie nor the reddish cheeks I always loathed to look at. I bothered not how Rozmea would react: she was probably doing the same thing (to a much less handsome guy) right about now.

There was only Perlia, she the woman of my life, and nothing more. I completely gave in to my desire. I wondered how my creator would think of this moment. Proud, I guessed, for I might be far from perfection, but the half-naked woman lying on top of me biting my neck, rubbing my chest and pinching at my legs with her cute toes would live up to that.

*Knock! Knock!*

The sound startled us both.

"Inquisitor," came the voice from outside the room. The errant I sent had finally showed up. "I have brought you the wine you ordered. I apologize for taking so long, but the traffic is terrible."

"Go away," I told him. Then, I turned back to Perlia, saying, "Now, where were we?"

This was going to be one hell of a long, thirsty night for me.

* * *

_Author's note: Alright, I started writing this because some people are saying my stories are not dark enough. Not sure how dark do you want, but a happy ending is always essential._

_ The first chapter is low on action and high on emotion. You might be shocked how I created an awesome team and just killed them outright. No, this it not trolling. I want to introduce the characters and explore their feelings in the grimdark future before moving on to the fighting. There will be Necron next time. Stay tuned._


End file.
